


who's gonna drive you home?

by orphan_account



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6988210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hey now, brown eyes. why are you out in the cold?<br/>they say sad eyes should never be alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	who's gonna drive you home?

**Author's Note:**

> this particular work is based on the song Who's Gonna Drive You Home? by The Ready Set!   
> it's a really beautiful song that you can check out here if you want:  
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=5SqV22aYJag

Ryan's head was spinning as he walked down the street. He had no idea where he was, and only faint recollection of what happened to him prior.  
He was at the bar, and he was soliciting himself to that handsome man...who bought him a drink whilst Ryan ran to the bathroom. Ryan couldn't remember catching his name, he could only remember drinking and getting awfully dizzy.

_"You don't look too good, darling." The man said, holding Ryan's hand. "C'mon with me, I'll take you home..."_

Ryan recalled going to the man's truck, headache and all, and remembered driving out of town. Remembered slurring, "That's not where I live-", remembered the truck halting. Remembered getting manhandled into submission-  
Ryan's heart hammered. Remembered getting raped.

Ryan stumbled off the curb, nearly falling into the street. He sat down with a frustrated yelp, feeling tears sting his eyes. He was freezing, he didn't have a car, and the sun showed no signs of coming up anytime soon. He could see Vegas in the horizon, bright as always. It brought a familiar comfort to him, the only solace he could find. His vision blurred as tears fell down his cheeks, taking some of his eyeliner with it. He wiped them away furiously, feeling weak. Crying wouldn't get him home.

Ryan willed himself to stand, took a deep breath, and continued his way to Vegas. He felt tears rolling down his face again, hot against his cold skin. He blinked them away, dropping his head to look at his feet. It was bound to happen to him eventually. He wasn't surprised, just hurt. Physically and emotionally.  
Everywhere from his hips down ached with each step. He was exhausted, and Vegas seemed further and further away.

Ryan saw headlights behind him and paused when the source of them pulled up right beside him. It was a unpleasantly murky green Chrysler Lebaron, missing a hubcap and looking like it was on its last leg. The passenger window rolled down, and a boy that looked like he was barely out of highschool leaned out. "It's kinda cold to be taking a walk at 3AM, yeah?"  
Ryan paused, looking him in the eyes. "So?" He tried to say rudely, but his voice broke. He wanted to sob.  
The boy gazed at him, his face unreadable. "Who's gonna drive you home, sad eyes?" He asked.  
Ryan couldn't bring himself to answer, just staring at the kid. 

He had short, choppy brown hair and huge brown eyes. His facial features seemed so large but they fit him perfectly. Ryan held his breath as he waited for the kid to say something.  
"I'm Brendon, and I'm going home. I live in Vegas, do you need help?" He spoke, and there was something honest in his voice.  
Ryan inhaled audibly. "Are you helping me?" He asked, leaning in a bit more.  
Brendon smiled and nodded. "If you'll let me,"  
Ryan figured tonight couldn't get worse, unless Brendon killed him. Which wouldn't be too awful by now. Ryan yanked the door open and sat down in the passenger seat, closing the window. Brendon's car was warm, at least.

Brendon glanced at him. He was thin, and had messy brunet hair and these wide brown eyes, lined in smudged black eyeliner. His cheeks and nose were pink from the cold, and his hands were trembling as he put on his seatbelt. He looked drained, his face sallow.  
"You look like you've been through hell." Brendon said, driving towards Vegas.  
Ryan's back straightened and he shook his head. "No, I'm just going deeper in it." He answered. His voice sounded like he'd been crying, and he hated it.  
"Can I hear what happened?" Brendon asked softly, stealing glances at his passenger.

Ryan rested his head against the window and his eyes fluttered shut. He thought of how to word it, but decided to just go for it. "I got roofied and raped in a stranger's truck and was dropped in the middle of fucking nowhere." He said flatly.  
Brendon tried not to look too shocked. "Shit, woah. Are you- are you okay?"  
Ryan laughed without humour. "No, I'm not." He breathed. 

Brendon wanted to comfort him, but elected to stay quiet as the boy started crying, shoulders shaking. "Hey, no, don't cry." Brendon cooed, reaching his right hand over to rest on Ryan's, on his thigh. "It's okay."  
Ryan didn't even flinch at Brendon's hand, just shuddered an exhale. He didn't reply.  
"Shh, you'll be okay. You know that? I might not know your name or anything, but I can tell you're stronger than this." Brendon tried, squeezing Ryan's cold hand.  
"Ryan. I'm-I'm Ryan." Was the only part he answered to.

The car was silent all the way into Vegas. Ryan gave quiet directions to his apartment, and Brendon followed them, their hands still intertwined. They parked in front of it, some old run-down mess. Ryan unbuckled his seatbelt and turned. "Thanks. I..uh, I don't know how to repay you." He said softly.  
Brendon reluctantly released Ryan's hand. "You don't have to. It was nice to meet you, even under such bad circumstances. I hope you'll be okay, Ryan."  
The other boy smiled. "I'll give you my number, okay? See where things go."

After the number exchange, Ryan got out of the car and waved, walking up to his porch. Brendon made sure he got inside before driving away, to his own shitty apartment. Spencer was probably asleep by now, and Brendon decided it'd be best not to wake him.  
Ryan's roommate, Jon, was still up. "Shit, kid. What happened to you?" He asked, startled.  
Ryan dropped onto the couch. "What didn't?"  
Jon frowned. "Huh?"  
Ryan gave a halfhearted chuckle. "I'll tell you later."


End file.
